


Five Times Skyler White Tried Her Hardest (And One Time She Didn't)

by heyjupiter



Series: 5 Bad Things [3]
Category: Breaking Bad
Genre: 5 Times, Canon Compliant, F/M, Gen, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-14
Updated: 2013-11-14
Packaged: 2018-01-01 10:45:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,306
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1043884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heyjupiter/pseuds/heyjupiter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(A gold star for you, Skyler.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Five Times Skyler White Tried Her Hardest (And One Time She Didn't)

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much to falafelfiction for being an A1 beta reader! 
> 
> These ficlets are mostly expansions of things that happened or were alluded to in canon and occasionally quote dialogue from particular episodes.
> 
> 1) 01x04  
> 2) -  
> 3) -  
> 4) 01x02  
> 5) 05x04  
> *) 05x15

1) It's not like Skyler doesn't know what this guy is up to, always doing the crossword puzzle at the table right in front of her register, faux-casually asking what she got for seven across. She's worked here since her sophomore year at UNM Los Alamos and the diner's always full of these awkward scientists trying to think of strategies for talking to girls. Most of them just stare.

Skyler's friend Melinda swears by dating the guys from the Los Alamos National Lab. "Those geeks are so grateful for any attention from a pretty girl, you can just wrap them around your little finger," she says. "Plus, Los Alamos pays them really well, so they'll take you out to really nice places." Skyler doesn't like to think of think of herself as being that kind of a girl. (And anyway, if they're paid so well, why don't they tip better?)

But this crossword guy seems sweet, and the more he comes in, the more oddly appealing Skyler finds him. She'd met her last boyfriend at a frat party, and though he was definitely better looking than crossword guy, he was also a total asshole. Assuming everything goes according to plan, this will be Skyler's last summer as a college student, and maybe she's ready to date someone a little older, more mature. (And maybe Melinda has a point about grateful scientists.)

Skyler does her crossword puzzles with a ballpoint pen, and it's with that same pen and that same confidence that she writes her number on the receipt when Crossword Guy pays for his grilled cheese. He smiles at her, nods, carefully tucks it into his wallet. 

That night, alone in her summer sublet, Skyler's watching that new show everyone's been talking about, _Seinfeld_ , when the phone rings. She turns off the TV--the show isn't really her cup of tea anyway, what's even the point of it?--waits three rings, and then picks up.

"Hello?"

"Hello, is Skyler there?"

"This is she."

"Skyler, it's Walter. From the diner?"

 _Walter_ , Skyler thinks. She'd seen the name on his ID badge--none of the Los Alamos guys ever bothered to unclip them for lunch--but she thought of him as Crossword Guy. "Hi Walter! How are you doing?" She realizes using her hostess voice, smooth and charming. She's trying harder than she needs to. The whole point of dating one of the lab geeks was that she wouldn't have to try so hard.

"Fine, fine. Uh, how are you?"

"Just fine," Skyler says, and waits.

"I was just wondering if you had any plans this weekend?"

"Well, I'm working Saturday, for breakfast and lunch. But I'm free Saturday night," Skyler says. She's free Friday night, too, but she doesn't want to look desperate.

"The thing is," Walter says, "I'd really like to take you out to dinner. But I only have a bicycle, and somehow I don't think you want me to pick you up with it."

Skyler laughs. She could easily think of this bike-riding scientist as a loser, but he's funny. Self-effacing. Anyway, it's just a date. It's not like she's going to marry the guy or anything. She says, "Well, how about if I pick you up, then?"

"It's a date," Walter replies.

* * *

2) Skyler knows that Junior isn't meeting all of his developmental milestones, not by a longshot. She brings it up with Walt and he brushes it off. "Babies develop differently," he says authoritatively. "So what if he's not crawling yet? He's only seven months old. There's plenty of time for that. He's perfect." He turns his attention to Junior, lying contentedly in his crib, and says, "Aren't you just perfect? Yes, you are." Skyler smiles and lets the subject drop for the moment. Of course he's perfect. She loves Junior more than she could have imagined, and she loves Walt even more than she did before, now that she sees what a good dad he is.

Walt and Skyler weren't trying to get pregnant, exactly, but after the initial shock, they'd both devoted themselves to becoming parents. Skyler had quit smoking, quit drinking, and taken all her prenatal vitamins (Walt reminded her every morning, without fail). They'd followed every doctor's order to the letter, went to all the Lamaze classes, and read all the books. 

Upon seeing their collection of baby books and magazines, Hank had joked, "People have been having babies for thousands of years without all this bullshit, you know," but Skyler had wanted to be prepared. She wants her son to have the best possible childhood, and she knows she needs outside assistance for that. It isn't as if she could count on any wisdom from her own mother or sister, or, God forbid, Walt's mom.

She flips through her well-worn copy of _What To Expect The First Year_ and reads, "You need be concerned only if your baby seems unable to coordinate both sides of her body, in other words, can't move her arms and legs in sync. This could be the sign of a motor disability, for which early treatment can be very helpful." She knows what Walt thinks, and what Marie thinks too; that she's being some kind of control freak. She knows it's early to expect him to crawl, but he hasn't been scooting or rolling over. 

Skyler used to think it was bullshit when people said, "A mother just knows," but Skyler just _knows_ that something isn't right, and she brings up her concerns at Junior's next checkup. 

She asks Walt to take off work for their referral meeting with a pediatric orthopedic surgeon. She brings a legal pad to take notes, and after she writes the words "cerebal palsy" she glances at Walt. His face shows no reaction, and she wonders if he heard. Junior, asleep on Walt's lap, definitely didn't hear. Skyler wishes she could wave a wand and make this all go away, but she can't, and pretending otherwise won't do a bit of good.

After a pause, Skyler and Walt both speak simultaneously. Walt says, "Are you sure?" and Skyler says, "What's next?"

Before long, Skyler has a new collection of reading material, a stack of Medicaid paperwork with every t crossed and i dotted, and a deepened resolve to do whatever she can for her son.

* * *

3) After making sure her favorite pen is in her tote bag, Skyler says, "Thanks again for watching Junior."

"Of course! It's no trouble at all to spend a little time with my very favorite nephew," Marie replies.

"Don't forget, all the emergency numbers are on the fridge, and he has to wear his leg braces until bed time, even if he complains," Skyler reminds Marie in a low voice. "Which he probably will."

"It's not my first time here, Sky," Marie says, sounding just like she had as a huffy thirteen-year-old.

"I know, I know, sorry. It's just at his last appointment the doctor kind of called us on the carpet, said he could tell from Junior's muscle tension that he wasn't wearing them enough, and…" Skyler sighs, not wanting to get started again on how unbelievably expensive custom orthotics were. "So please just make sure he keeps them on. Don't be the nice aunt, okay?"

"I'll be the meanest aunt. Everything will be fine. Now go, I can't wait to hear all about it when you get back!"

Skyler smiles. "Thanks, Marie. I'll see you in a few hours." She stops in the living room to say goodbye to Junior and drives off to meet her writing group. Today is the first time the group is workshopping one of her stories, and she has butterflies in her stomach. 

The group meets in a church on the north side of town, in a room that also serves as a Sunday school classroom, though for their meetings they rearrange the furniture so it has the feel of a conference room. Skyler gets there early (for once) and sits at the corner of the big table. She arranges her notebook and pen just so, and stares up at a cartoony poster of David and Goliath. Other writers trickle in and nod at her, but none sit near her. Skyler's been coming to the writing group for almost a year now but hasn't really made friends. Though it's not sponsored by UNM, it's located near campus and most of the group's other members are mostly grad students and a few retired professors. And Skyler usually has to rush home after meetings instead of going out for drinks. But that's okay, she doesn't come here to make friends. She comes here to get better at writing, so she can make some money at it.

The rules of the writing group are that whoever's story is being workshopped cannot talk that day. She can only listen and take notes. 

It's a point of pride for Skyler that she does sit there for the whole hour, calmly taking notes while these bitchy grad students tear her story to shreds. "Self-indulgent," one says. 

"We've seen this kind of trapped housewife thing a million times before," another says. 

"The symbolism of the kid with leg braces is a little _too_ obvious, don't you think?" 

Skyler nods and writes it all down, wondering if she were ever as young and cruel as these grad students. Her story wasn't autobiographical, not exactly, but they say to write what you know. When Junior was younger and Skyler had still gone to Cerebral Palsy Alliance meetings, she and some of the other parents had lamented how rare it was to see their families reflected in fiction in any kind of relatable, realistic way. Those parents were Skyler's audience, not these kids. But she has to wonder how editors and publishers would view her work--at the end of the day, she needs to get paid for writing, and if that requires a change of content, so be it.

They take a break in the middle of the meeting, and Skyler thinks about leaving and not coming back. But she'll be damned if she's going to let these kids know how much they got to her. She returns to her seat, and when they workshop the second writer of the day, her voice doesn't shake when she says, "The narrator just felt very immature to me."

* * *

* * *

4) Skyler stares at Jesse Pinkman's MyShout page, trying to make sense of it. One of Walt's former students? Based on his grammar, --not to mention his extracurricular activities--she'd have to guess a pretty poor one. She knows Walt's lying about something, and she knows the obvious conclusion would be that he's cheating on her. Skyler knows she's kept her looks pretty well, but still, she's not getting any younger, and this second pregnancy certainly isn't doing her body any favors. And their sex life hasn't been all that exciting lately, with the exception of last night. 

It's not out of the question that he would cheat, but somehow, it doesn't seem likely to her. Walt's always been loyal--possessive, even. It's hard to imagine him sleeping with a woman besides his pregnant wife. When she *69ed the number that strange long distance call came from, she was surprised at the message she'd gotten. Maybe not a younger woman--a younger _man_? Could it be? Marie and Hank had teased Skyler occasionally about how effeminate Walt could be, but Skyler knew better than anybody that he wasn't gay. Was he bisexual? That would certainly be something he couldn't get from Skyler. Was that what had made last night so exciting? Was he fucking Skyler and picturing a man in her place?

But now she's looking at Jesse's MyShout and reconsidering. Walt's a great teacher, and he would _never_ take advantage of a student like that. So what's going on?

Skyler the doctor's appointment, after they get the news that they're having an apparently healthy girl, she asks, "Who's Jesse Pinkman?" She hopes the setting will inspire him to be truthful, that it will remind him of his responsibility to his family. And finally, there in the exam room, Walt confesses, "He sells me pot." Even though it should be a relief, Skyler's still furious. It's such an immature, stupid thing to do, to put their family in risk that way. Did Walt forget about Hank's job? And aside from that, it burns her up inside that Walt's been sneaking off to smoke pot, when he's been on her ass throughout this pregnancy to make sure she's eating clean and staying away from any possible toxins. She did everything right when she was pregnant with Junior, too, and she's come to terms with the fact that some things are just out of her control. She's not quite sure if Walt has.

And then he has the nerve to ask her to "get off _his_ ass"? Is he kidding? 

Skyler doesn't want to fight about this at the doctor's office. But she does want to end whatever's happening with Walt's stupid drug use, and so the next day she puts the address she'd found online into Mapquest, gets in her station wagon, and pays Jesse Pinkman a visit.

He has a nice house. Nicer than theirs. She guesses maybe crime does pay. 

She sees Jesse out in the driveway--she recognizes him from his MyShout. He's young, and he seems dazed. Must be the drugs. When she gets closer, she realizes he has a black eye, too. This is the kind of person Walt's associating with behind her back?

Jesse tries to force her off his driveway, and she says, "Don't touch me! Do not touch me," shielding her belly and realizing for the first time that perhaps she should not have come to a drug dealer's house, alone. 

But she's here now, and Jesse puts his hands up and says, "Alright, alright, not touching! Okay? Not touching, here," and she realizes he's just as nervous as she is. He looks increasingly nervous as she tells him her husband is Walter White, and that he told her everything. She takes strength from his discomfort, and feels pretty good about the speech she gives. “You stay away from him…or you will be one sorry individual," is a pretty good line, she thinks.

As she turns to leave, Skyler thinks again about how young Jesse looks. He can't be that much older than Junior, and his face really is pitiful. Her maternal instincts compel her to add, "Not that it's any of my business, but you might want to consider a different line of work."

"Okay," Jesse says. He seems bewildered by the whole exchange. Skyler wonders how often people bother to try to protect Jesse's customers. She wonders what Jesse's parents are like. And she wonders if smoking pot explains all of why Walt's been so weird lately. Well, she'll keep a closer eye on him. Their kids need to have their dad around or who knows, they might turn out like that burnout Jesse. She makes a mental note to see if Junior has a MyShout account, and if so, what he's putting up there.

5) When Skyler concludes that it's her best option for now, it isn't hard to feign a suicide attempt. She even enjoys it, the weightlessness of being under water, the temporary respite from inane small talk and pretending to be happy that Walt has survived another year.

Skyler knows her family won't let her die. She can hear their voices now, muffled though they are, and knows it won't be long before someone comes in for her. Still, drifting in the cold water, a small, selfish part of her would welcome the release if they did. She allows herself to imagine her funeral, her freedom… but that would be the ultimate betrayal of her children, and she knows she can't do that. Not while there are still other options to pursue. 

Since becoming a mother, Skyler's first priority has always been the safety of her children. For a long time, it had been pretty clear how to do that. Balance the household budget, get Junior to his doctor's appointments, give everyone three meals a day, and work on keeping her relationship with Walt healthy. She used to think that having both parents around was extremely important for her children's happiness and sense of security.

It's still true that she and Marie grew up with a largely absent father, that Walt barely got to know his father before his father passed away. It's true that she hadn't wanted her kids to grow up like that. 

But this isn't what she wants, either, and despite her best efforts, she doesn't know exactly how she's going to get what she wants.

Walt drags her out of the pool. Hank's gotten towels, and Marie wraps her up and forces her into the house, up to the bathroom. 

"What were you _thinking_ , Skyler?" Marie asks. "It looked like… I mean, you weren't… oh my god. Here, just… why don't you take a nice hot shower? Get into some dry clothes, and we'll talk after."

Skyler nods numbly. It's nice to have Marie take care of her. She and Marie have always looked out for each other. Well, Skyler has done more looking after Marie than the other way around… but they're still family, and she knows Marie will take care of her kids. 

In the shower, Skyler cries, and it's not even an act. It hadn't been an act when she'd snapped at Marie the week before, either. Skyler's exhausted, and scared, and she'll do whatever she can to protect her kids. After hen she gets out of the shower and puts on the pajamas and robe Marie's gotten for her, she keeps crying, and she tells Marie how tired she is, and how sorry she is, so sorry.

Marie says, "Skyler, I honestly had no idea things were so bad. I'm sorry. Is there anything I can do to help?"

Skyler sniffles and says, "There's, um… this is a lot to ask, Marie…"

"Say it, Skyler, just say the word."

Skyler sucks in a breath and makes her move. "Do you think you and Hank could take the kids? Just for a little while?"

"Skyler! Of course, you know we love Flynn and Holly. Is… is something wrong with the kids?"

"No… no, the kids are fine," Skyler says, though she doesn't know for how long. "I just think Walt and I could really use the space alone. To kind of work through a few things. And I don't want the kids to see me like this. You know?" She wipes her face with the sleeve of her bathrobe. She hopes she's selling this right.

Marie nods. "Of course. Of course! That's no problem. I think that's a… I think that's smart. And you know Hank and I will take care of them for as long as you need."

"Thanks, Marie. I knew I could count on you."

Skyler sags with genuine relief and Marie says, "Why don't you get some rest, Sky? I'll go downstairs and just talk to Hank for a minute, and Walt can help the kids get ready."

Skyler thinks she's kept a grimace off her face and she nods. She doesn't want Walt to change Marie's mind, and so she plays her final card. Expanding on her earlier babbling, she says, "Thanks, Marie. I just… I just don't want Flynn and Holly to see me and the way we used to see mom…" It might be heavy-handed, but she wants to make sure Marie gets the connection.

Marie sucks in a breath and says, "Don't worry about a thing, Skyler." She hugs Skyler and leaves her behind. Skyler curls up under the covers and waits for Walt to come up. She waits to hear if her best efforts to protect the kids were good enough.

* * *

*) "When did you first become aware that your husband was involved with the manufacture of methamphetamines?" asks Agent Bailey.

"Over a year ago," Skyler says. Her public defender has encouraged Skyler to come clean about her involvement while emphasizing her fear of Walt, believing that his public actions will serve as part of Skyler's defense. She does as she's told, and it isn't that hard. Not as hard as it's been to live with Walt for the few months.

"How did you become aware of your husband's involvement with the manufacture of methamphetamines?"

"He told me," Skyler says flatly. 

"And did you report this to any authorities?"

Skyler closes her eyes for a moment before forcing herself to say, "No."

"But you are aware that the manufacture of methamphetamines is illegal?"

"Yes," Skyler says. Idly, she wonders how her dumb blonde act would work here. But it's too late for that, and anyway, she doesn't think she has the energy to pull it off anymore.

"So why, then, didn't you report your husband's criminal activities?" 

"I was scared," Skyler says. She feels her eyes tear up and knows that it will play well on the video recording, but the tears came on their own.

Agent Reyes--clearly playing the role of "good cop"--offers Skyler a tissue and a murmured reassurance, which Skyler accepts with a nod.

Agent Bailey--"bad cop"--clears his throat and asks, "Did your husband threaten you?"

Skyler's breath hitches. There's the core of it, isn't it? _Did_ Walt threaten her? Certainly he threatened the stability of her family. He made her think that what she did was in the best interests of her family. And it was, wasn't it? Wouldn't it have been better if Flynn and Holly never had to know who their father really was? That was all she'd wanted. But that was the same argument Walt had used to defend his own actions, and he was full of shit. 

More tears come, and she buys herself a little more time, cleaning them up. She'd managed to put on mascara this morning, which turns out to have been a real waste of time. She says, "I needed to protect my children from him. He… he tried to turn my son against me. He kidnapped Holly!"

Agent Bailey says, "I understand that, Mrs. White, but why didn't you think reporting him to the police would be the best way to protect your children?"

Agent Reyes clears her throat and says, "Mrs. White, it's not uncommon for victims of domestic abuse to be reluctant to contact the authorities. What matters now is that you and your children are safe, and the best thing you can do right now is just to tell us everything you know about your husband's criminal activities. It doesn't matter what you did or didn't say in the past."

Even though Skyler herself told Walt she was his "hostage," she's never thought of herself as a "victim of domestic abuse." She knows what victims of domestic abuse look like, what they act like. They're the ones crying in the background on episodes of _COPS_. They definitely do not run huge money laundering businesses. They don't hire crooked lawyers to intimidate their ex-lovers into paying their back taxes. She wants to laugh at the misunderstanding, but it's not really that funny. 

Agent Reyes is wrong on another count, too--it _does_ matter what Skyler didn't do. If Skyler had come clean earlier, how many lives could she have saved? Hank's? Steve Gomez's? Almost certainly those two, and who knows how many others? How much blood has Walt left on her hands? Skyler stares down at her hands and talks. It's too late to protect her family's reputation, so she doesn't even try. She just spits things out as they come to mind. She tells them about the money laundering, about the car wash. She tells them about Saul Goodman, though she's pretty sure they already have his number. She tells them about Walt's cancer, about Hank's PT. She tells them about Jesse Pinkman, and, after a long pause, about how she'd told Walt to kill him. Remembering those ski-masked men standing around Holly, she says nothing about the dark-hair woman at the car wash, and wonders if she's once again paying for her children's safety with the blood of strangers--of strangers' children. Not for the first time, she wonders about Jesse's parents.

Hours later, she stares down at the table silently, wondering if she's said enough to save herself from jail. Wondering if she could ever say enough to save herself. Finally, she says, "I really… I was trying to protect my children. That's all I wanted. And I… I didn't know how far in over my head was. Not until it was too late." 

Skyler's lip quivers, and she covers her mouth with her hand. Agents Bailey and Reyes exchange long looks, and finally, she is thanked for her cooperation and told not to leave town, in case they have further questions for her. As if she has the energy to start over in a new town, if that were even a possibility. She pulls into a gas station and smokes a cigarette, savoring the nicotine and delaying the moment when she must return to a hastily-found dank basement apartment where her traumatized children are being watched by a sister with whom Skyler isn't sure she'll ever be able to truly reconcile. 

She grinds her butt into the ashtray and reminds herself that at least her children are alive and out of Walt's control. As long as that's the case, she can keep trying. She can find a better job, a better apartment, a better life… just as soon as she's had a chance to recover from the effects of her last attempt at protecting her family.


End file.
